Monthly Archives: July 2013

I’ve been resisting writing the last few days, even though I know I have uncovered a lot of stuff and turned it all into rich, soft, fertile ground to plant all of my now renewed, re-discovered and truly life changing hopes and dreams. Many of them from years and years back, some relating all the way back to my childhood where all I could ever imagine or think about was spending time near horses, around horses or on horses. Making equipment, blankets, bridles, reins and halters out of every scrap of lacing, leather or material I had access to.

Begging, pleading, bartering or chattering to any and all that would listen. Getting into this much misaligned habit of sharing by having to play with others in the games, manners and ways that made them happy, as I hopefully waited for my turn, the turn that came with the promise of if I shared my time with them, and “played nice”, then they would have to do the same for me. Though many times as not the minutes, hours, days would roll by with the “if I would just wait or do one more thing” then my turn would come.

To find me all these many years later, still waiting, playing, coaching, teaching, training and being paid handsomely for those who are starting out, starting over, actually going after their dreams too, of the joy, freedom, and satisfaction that comes from being a horse owner and connecting as a partner with an animal of such immense size, ability and awareness.

The last few days of this week found me once again working with and mulling over the little app horse I have had for 6 years, which had been given to me as a kid’s because of his size. Though my initial response in handling and meeting him… was are you kidding me?? Taking all of the time possible since then, to exam him and myself for all of the accumulated lessons of fear, distrust, and fleeing, so readily discernible up until the last three years of his tendency to bolt at the slightest movement from anyone or anything. So much of that originally attributed to the large indention in the center of his head about two inches up from between his eyes where he would flinch if a hand got to close, more so on the left side where he would then lock his legs, swing his head as far as possible to the right and stand there.

I have used and tried so very many different methods that I know, have learned, have had suggested, a lot of trial and error, always making small steps toward releasing the image he has so ingrained into his habitual responses. Though on Thursday I noticed his jumping always tied into the minute either hind quarter was trapped into a space he had to pass through. Finding the story I had learned about other foals the previous owner had raised then gives away as 2 and 3 year olds and how he would push them into a squeeze shoot, fumbling with his disability from several old injuries, sometimes falling onto the horses, or off the shoot. This would then cause a horse with the desire to run, left with the only option with their feet so aptly held in the shoot to lean as hard and far as possible to the other side to escape these rough, jerky motions that left the horse with a strong fear and distaste of fences, sudden movement and human contact.

As I played with the thought in my mind, I was aware of how much I dearly love to share and teach, how much I have held back over layers of uncertainty of my rights to be in control of what I can or should be doing with my life. So I rearranged my two barrels that are used to direct a horse in, out, and around them from about six feet from the fence on one side and open on the other. Where this little horse would jump every time he came close to any opening, with a locked, raised neck and the whites of his eyes watching for any and every opportunity to escape, when I recognized he didn’t feel like he had a choice. Even though my hands were light upon the rope as I guided him through, I saw a possible new solution after half an hour with minimal relaxing or even breathing from him, of moving my saddling rail to make a temporary chute to “walk” him through. Get him into a place as small as possible that he could still walk in, walk through, walk out, slowly, then step by step for the next hour I played with him, till I felt him relax, yawn, and let go of the terror of forced enclosure. Aware of the resistance in me to trap myself into fully walking eyes wide open to my fullest dreams of and for me, completely, solidly, comfortably… asking no one if, how, why, or may I.

Amazed at the tension that left both of us about the same time, I just wanted to sit down and bawl, over all of the years of waiting for the support I thought was necessary from outside of me. And yet here it was, my imaginary fears of outside disapproval’s, when it was only me holding me back, trying to protect me from allowing all of me out… to fully live.

I love my life, my horses, my kids, my family, my friends and everything I have ever done or come in contact with. It’s all shaped me, the sharing of episodes and escapades many times helps others see that what they are attempting or afraid of, that someone like me who makes so much of what I do appear easy… has had to wade through the swamps of fears, to climb out on the rocks and logs to find the stream of life always ready to wash us off, cool and refresh us as we float along supported by the Universe in each of ours desires, dreams and passions to be fully uniquely ourselves as we learn, understand and expand to truly live our life to the fullest.

The stuff I hear, feel and sense before and as it happens. As I have been chasing, scaring, and startling people for years… with the words that just pop out of my mouth of exactly what another is thinking, desiring or experiencing. Being able to answer a question that hasn’t been asked or replying to an email almost seconds after it has been sent. Tuning in so vividly to another as to pick up the phone when they call, return a text, give the next answer in a game, almost a whirling dervish as I seem to appear out of the ether’s with the appropriate item, or reply. Wandering up to diagnose an animal, before someone even knew or asked what’s wrong as they looked strangely at me with my forth coming answer, and then they would quickly walk away looking at me crazily. To then come back days, weeks even months later, asking “how did you know?”

Struggling to fit in, to make some sense out of what I thought anyone could do. Slowly withdrawing further and further into my personal lair of safety, as the criticism caused me to find solace in my solitude with the animals. Till the curtain dropped again and again and then again, forcing me to either quit completely and buy into what the world was selling of how I should be… but the ringing sounds and sensations wouldn’t give way to the medication and prescribed treatment from examinations by those so book learn-ed as the male doctor who told me about my giving birth…

His description was textbook perfect; I was not due for another month. He had plans for the weekend, he would see me the next Monday and then we would talk. I told him he would miss it, for I “knew” my son would be born that Saturday. I was right, I was tapped in to life in a way I am now still learning is okay as I find my way back to what use to annoy others, yet it was the way I experienced each and every moment.

The “curse” of telling others what they prescribed was not the truth, at least not for me. This came home so solidly when I gave up on medicine and went to the horses to help heal me, after I struggled with medication and exercises that I was told “yes” the side effects might make me sicker before I was better, but it was necessary. Thanks, but no thanks… I chose instead the hour and a half decision to walk 80 ft, saddle my horse, leaning on and using him to get to the round pen, to then maneuver my way to throw myself up and off the other side. The whole while my horse stood there patiently waiting, as I finally struggled aboard and asked him to help show me what I needed to do.

To go from crippled with vertigo, barely mobile, half of my face paralyzed unresponsive… to first riding 3 horses in three weeks, to 5 or more horses daily with two to three lesson a day, each day feeling and looking better, more comfortable, more confident, healthier, physically, mentally and spiritually. To now almost 6 years later, amazed by what I have unlearned, re-thought and re-discovered I actually really did know all along, I just hid it away or disowned it in my attempt to not be so weird, different, and strange.

Funny how far we can try to run away, not realizing we are carrying ourselves with us no matter where we go. I appreciate everything I have been through. That I had to get to the middle of the tangle of my life to find a new, better, way to the truth of what beats at the heart of me.

Since this last weekend the awareness and sensing has gotten stronger, easier to tap into… there is only just a little uneasiness left. Which as I write these words I find I am still judging me, as I watch each word in each sentence appear… I am just not stopping, editing or changing, as I let myself flow out onto the page. I am alive, I am worthy, I matter to myself so much more than the noise of the world use to be able to talk me out of. I am here; I am unique, different, real and so connecting to all of the hidden closed off parts of me so long denied. I R Friske, I R Fantastic, I R am becoming more and more truly alive every day, as I find the truth for me in every moment, by feeling for how good it feels to be honestly me. I needed to learn to honor my feelings for me… FIRST!

For such a long, long time I have been trying to get clearer on this sense or feeling that is always compelling me, inviting me, enticing me to move, breathe, and take one more step toward this dream, goal, or ideal that has been with me as long as I can remember. Urging me to go a little further, wait a little bit longer, dig a little deeper, find one more place of release from the prison around my heart that I was made aware of just a few days ago in my constant awareness to God guiding me back to me when I had this last Sunday to remember…

Calm, easy, even a little over cast as I finished up my reconstruction of my saddling area with newer, bigger shades of 12 X 18 and then taking the smaller old one to erect over the dogs enclosure. Fascinated with my life as I have learned to slow down, and play my way forward. Which means I have learned to not get in a hurry, ask for things in my mind and have the Universe surprise me with the answers usually within moments after I let go of the thought.

Like the one that caused me to wander into the house after the last rope was re-strung and re-placed, to go to Facebook perusing for a quick smile from any of the sources I am connected to that share positive and uplifting posts. When I clicked on one video of a man wonderfully playing a guitar in an unusual fashion, even though I enjoyed the music, I found my eye wandering to the comments on the side to see one light up. Urging me to read it about someone playing a guitar the same way in the movie “August Rush”, which I promptly looked up to find that I had actually seen the movie before, though I felt this prompting to find it and see it again.

So I watched it, to find several places in it that called to me, till one particular scene literally caused my heart to expand and push against the walls I had erected to protect it from ever being made fun of or misused again. Finding as I wound my way to the end of the movie this lifting of some old burden which now was calling me to write it down and set myself free.

I thought about it, yet nothing came out… I could feel the rattling of the door, see the key just inches away inside with me, yet unable to move… So I waited, rode, cleaned, felt, watched the movie again, took a break, listened, and allowed the feelings to just build. Until last night when I felt the urge to watch it again and yet found myself being guided to re-watching another movie on my list, which once again stated the need to write it out. Set myself free… to be fully me.

Passionate, proud, tall, horse connected, sometimes wonderfully oblivious to others as I play with the horse energy I find myself drawn to. I reach, feel, seek, and listen for the guidance and the peace I find when I reconnect a horse to actually engaging and being with a human. As they soon find there is someone here who is finally, trying to listen and engage with their energy of aliveness. It is so rewarding to be part of the transformation from just watching a horse who is tolerating life, one who is referred to as “dead broke” just existing, surviving, being fed, rode, handled as a tool, a worker, a slave to taught or learned habits (much like me) once again fully alive, relating and even anticipating life.

I find myself, now much more honest, aware of having shut so many doors in the castle that is me, closed off from fully imagining, much less allowing into my life… all of the dreams, desires and wishes I have kept locking away after putting them on the shelves in taking care of any and all others first. Thinking I did not matter, not as me, myself and I, the lady who lives, alive, glowing, insightful, aware and so passionate about the feelings she takes in and the visions she sees of the grandeur of almost all animals and people she meets. When she gets in the zone and away from the crowds of those she has mistakenly been trying to live up to their ideas and memories of who she should be.

The energy I feel is all around us, one just needs to find and trust it. Writing it all down now, today and sharing it with others is like I am finally calling back to him, expecting him to read it and find me. I have never quit on my passion…It’s the only place I can escape and let it all go to fully connect with life. I am writing today in hope and anticipation of it finding its way into his hands… years of aware anticipation, for the dream, the man, and the life I have been seeking since I was a very tiny child… now letting it out, opening the door, letting and expecting My Idea of life in… to begin!!

So much stuff to ingest, digest, assimilate, and ruminate upon as I find myself stumbling, bumbling, tripping and getting myself kicked in the process of thinking way too much, instead of comfortably and confidently feeling my way forward in the process of finding my way forward to all of me. This person I am more becoming everyday as I strip away all of the encompassing layers of doubt as to my rights and capabilities to move from the safety of this corner I find that “I” have tricked myself into believing is enough.

It’s been safe… it allows people in incrementally for me to teach, learn, understand, watch and observe as I much different ways of personal boundaries from paying attention to the horses, life is not at all as I have learned or expected it to be. I have found the cause of the stuck feeling, the sense of watch, wait, learn, wait, smaller, slower, wait again, look closer, get right up next to it… and an alarm goes off, someone walks in, a movement to fast to just get finished in time, for someone else’s nod of approval, acceptance, an avalanche of rules and guidelines about life, the customer is always right, take care of others, this is what is promised as it is spelled out in plain black and white on paper.

To find myself sitting in front of the computer, moments after finally watching a movie that caught my eye weeks ago, which contained an answer I was seeking from within. From the words that bubbled up days ago when I awoke about how I keep “hedging my bets”, by not putting all my eggs in one basket, and keeping my life on hold till I get it right.

I met the most attractive man a few weeks ago. He is kind, friendly, interesting, cowboy/horseman, who approached me because of my jingle when I walk (I wear spurs because I ride almost every day). We had chatted once before in another store, now as I strode past him, and in his need to follow his path back to his love of horses. He did an about face and tracked me down. The Universe aware I needed his conversations about horse training as much as he did mine.

We have become friends, awakening and recognizing the hunger that is fueled when one gets to talk about their passions to another on the same level with an understanding of the drive to ride, to move, to breathe, to become one with a horse. Finding the mutual respect for another on the same path we have spent several hours talking, texting, and emailing across the spans of several hundred miles from his home place, till his work brought him back to this area. Where he stopped by to visit, eat, chew the fat and play with the horses. Though on one of the visits as he stepped out of the truck I had an epiphany of so many of my desires walking toward me, to be further amazed when as we were out back at the pens, as he casually walked up to one of bars, to bend, twist, and rewire it into place.

To the simplest of minds, one might think I would move forward and say something. Nope. Not me, I sat on it for the next few days. I held my ground, shut my mouth and tried to talk myself out of it. Which then caused the awareness of what “hedging” was about… I am not honest with me. I think way too much, trying to rationalize, categorize, or socialize what I should do.

It’s the awareness of my latest habits that have finally been uncovered, after I took the time with the horse whose hoof print’s bruise is still slowly being absorbed back into my body. To slow down, truly feel, watch, and observe where the unexpected lashing out came from. This horse has enough old scars of having been patched back together that could take years to uncover the stories of how. In the five days here after the escapade, I discovered there is a particular place he will kick out at as he moves to get whatever is there back into his line of sight. A blind spot, a place to protect, because he had been injured there, he can’t move comfortably out of it, or a reaction to whatever originally caused it.

Whatever the reason, somewhere from his past, he has been reacting without thought, just habit and instinct. The horse chiropractor is due this next week, he will be adjusted and now trusts that someone is assisting him to find a better way to be with people. He has also taught me how my trust was all out of sorts, to the point I “use” to not speak up for me, not always when I write, I like the pieces more like this one that just flows, appears on the page. For me to copy, take to Word Press to paste, edit and then post.

Thankfully I have found a wonderful new friend in this man, that when I told him how gorgeous he was and how well he fit many of the things on my list. Applauded me for my honesty of telling him exactly how I felt (even though it took three or four days). He understands that I admire him, he’s awesome, and it’s okay to savor, and maintain our friendship, because I matter. To me this man, the horse, my listening to the voices in my head are just signs from God that I am being led toward all of my hopes and dreams. As I learn to get out of my own way and surrender to the guidance that keeps showing up, even when we aren’t paying attention… God just sends another, and another, and another. Allow, trust, and honesty all for me to do for me, myself and I!

48 hours later and so many things have changed right before my very eyes… All of these illusions, deceptions, frustrations and struggles have all turned into this magical, marvelous path back in time to take a look at my story from a totally new vantage point. To find a little girl, about 5, brown small suitcase clutched tightly under her buttocks as she sits crying all the way around the block on the corner, the one furthest away from home. Sitting there, staring longingly at the opposite side of the street in this attempt to run away, but foiled by the rules of “never cross the street…alone”. Where her mother finds her a little while later asking what she is doing? The little girl wails in total loss, and humiliation “nobody loves me, no one will play with me, they always want to play with dolls, I don’t fit in, I listen, I do what I’m told, I work at playing dolls, I clean, I stayed out of the street, yet my turn to play horses never comes.” The mother comforts the child the best she can “it will all work out”, and they go back home, with the memory etched into the recesses of my mind, for me to finally find… again.

I worked on this memory a few years back when I first found EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) and had thought I had cleared it, because I forgot about it. To find in the last few days of outrageous heat (in the shade it was 113 degrees) with no breezes and several horses to ride, which I did very early or very late in the day, yet I couldn’t manage to escape this feeling of being in the hot seat, under a tremendous light. So hot, so miserable, I sought relief in watching movies and large glasses of iced water and limeades. Struggling to get comfortably through to my two touchy, jumpy, horses, way too much work in all of this direct glare, till I found myself, frustrated, tired and sobbing “it’s not fair, I work so hard, and no one wants to play with me”…

Suddenly, like being slapped in the face. I found the nugget of peace I had been so determinedly seeking. This gem of information rocked me to my core. I suddenly saw the trail of relationships with others as the outsider looking in… always working, always cleaning up, fixing for others, doing the impossible, sitting outside of the lime light. With this crazy belief egging me on, that if I “worked, struggled, did whatever I was told”, I would eventually have my turn.

My past attempt to deal with the story was about being different, standing out like a sore thumb and the nobody loves me. There was no memory at that time about no one wanting to play with me. I now see how I have done all of this crazy, insane work of trying to fit in, waiting for things to work out. As my five year old mind took literally “it would all work out”. So work I have, for any and everybody, doing it all to fit in, cleaning up, fixing, repairing, paying for others to help me and even putting others first. All in the crazy belief that when all the work is done…then I can play!

To find myself with a lesson this morning, as I watched her diligently struggle with the newest information I had given her for her toolbox of ways to connect with her mount. As I listened to her berate herself over her inability to use the latest tool the right way. I threw up my hands and told her “enough, I am throwing the whole toolbox and tools idea away”, instead I now want you to look at each idea as a toy, another way for you to play with your horse, toys for your toy box.

The laughter exploded out of her chest, her whole body relaxed, the horse let out a huge sigh of relief. In that moment I saw the glint of gold in my ability to play, have fun, enjoy, pivot, dance, and revel in the joy of allowing myself to be truly paid to play and enjoy life. I have given up working, life is supposed to be fun. All in favor… come on down, the weather is cool, the breeze this evening is fantastic and the shower from the storm that blew the heat away way early Sunday morning has made the ground soft and fluffy as the grass so quickly turned soft, green and vibrant! Life is a dance, find a song and come along, find your own toys and come play!